


Bard the Bowman/Bargeman: Amber, Green and Gold

by skysonfire



Series: Luke Evans [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: An Unexpected Journey, Dale - Freeform, Desolation of Smaug, Devilish Midweek Divulgence, F/M, Fanfiction, King of Dale, Luke Evans - Freeform, Short Encounters, Smut with a Story, battle of the five armies, porn with a plot, www.devilish-midweek-divulgence.tumblr.com
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 21:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2403722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysonfire/pseuds/skysonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the Devilish Midweek Divulgence "hump day" blog (www.devilish-midweek-divulgence.tumblr.com), this is one of a few pieces that I've written featuring Bard the Bowman/Bargeman. This piece can be read independently from other Bard posts that I may feature in this series. Photo edits associated with this piece can be found on the Tumblr blog site. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Bard the Bowman/Bargeman: Amber, Green and Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Devilish Midweek Divulgence "hump day" blog (www.devilish-midweek-divulgence.tumblr.com), this is one of a few pieces that I've written featuring Bard the Bowman/Bargeman. This piece can be read independently from other Bard posts that I may feature in this series. Photo edits associated with this piece can be found on the Tumblr blog site. Enjoy!

There was something piercing about the water encircling Lake-town, especially when the air was so cold. The icy fingers of the lapping swells against the legs of the house seemed to work their way up through the floors with a sinister touch; permeating everything in their path and chilling the hearts of dwellers. It was a hard town, inhabited by hard lives and frozen souls.

It was all she could do to keep warm, even with his hands snaking under the leather cords of her vest; even with his hot breath trailing along the shield of her ear.

She pushed her palms inside his heavy suede coat and felt the radiating of his body against the soft fleece within. She wanted to be inside that coat; to wrap herself around him and hide there without yielding, and yet, she knew that their moments would be short. Everything was changing, and dwarves were marching on Erebor.

He drove his thigh between her legs and forced her against the bedpost, his lined brow furrowed and his eyes flickering like flames at dusk; shifting amber and green and gold.

She tilted her head toward his mouth and he swept his lips over her, the tiniest groan escaping his throat. Pushing her body against him, she could feel his heart pounding against her chest and she reached up to pull her fingers through his soft, dark hair, painted with silver strands gifted him by time and toil.

His long fingers unlaced her vest and he drifted his calloused palms over her tender flesh; over the curve of her hip, across her abdomen and midsection, and over the silky caress of her heaving chest. She watched his hands, and he watched her face watching him. He wrestled with the swelling of her nipples, and he tightened and turned his fingers upon hearing the pleasure that escaped her mouth.

Like the tiniest flame fanned by a night breeze, the heat in her gut spread steadily throughout her body, touching and tingling at her mouth, which panted for him, and her sex, which moistened desirously.

She wrenched his coat from his shoulders and clutched his strong arms as she milled her pelvis into his leg. She felt his attentive grip pressing hard against his breeches, and he turned her onto the bed, laying her down softly and unlacing the front of her skirt to expose the lusty secrets that had been hidden from him.

He paused before dipping his finger inside her, his stern jaw clenched, the smooth lines in his face startlingly apparent and perfect. He worked her slowly and she rocked her hips in time with the sounds of the water’s caress on the house’s exterior.

“Bard,” she whispered, her eyes rolling back involuntarily, the glare of the day blazing through the dusty window above the bed and brightening her flush face.

He leaned in and enveloped her mouth with his own as he penetrated the deepest parts of her longing.

She tore from him abruptly and held his face, her body quivering with revelation and the wanting surging within.

“There’s a king in you,” she breathed, the air from her lungs hanging in the air. But she was warm; warm like foreboding fire.


End file.
